


Prag

by schxbetta



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-01 23:26:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14531658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schxbetta/pseuds/schxbetta
Summary: A little something-something I wrote not-so-long ago about Peter Schibetta being conditioned and controlled by the man he despises the most, Simon Adebisi.Pretty much PWP with some squick added in here and there. Rated mature because of Non-con / Rape-mentions.





	Prag

There’s no describing the feeling. The  _WEIGHTLESSNESS_ , the complete lack of discretion. He doesn’t care at the moment- _HE CAN’T_. With enough of that shit in his head, he can’t even react ‘normally’ anymore. Not when Adebisi slaps him, gropes him, pulls his hair. There’s nothing but whimpers.  _WHIMPERS AND MOANS_. Sometimes a word, if he’s energy enough to muster it. 

When Adebisi sits on the edge of his bed and slaps his bare thighs, Peter looks up with a wary gaze. It’s been so constant; he almost doesn’t feel the pain anymore. But that’s probably because of the drugs; the effect they have on him. The pharmaceuticals that the other man had been crushing up and placing into his food. Drugs enough to make him compliant. Paired with the isolation of the psych ward and the pain of his existence - the medication makes things a little easier. 

His relationship with Adebisi… _IS EASIER._

**“Come on”**  the beast coos, he slaps his bare thighs again. Peter meets him with a blank stare.  **“Daddy wants you.”**  


The gangster looks down at the floor. He’s clothed, but they’re ripped. Ripped enough to expose his skin. The nipple, Adebisi had so crudely pierced. The hole he’d torn in his pants.  _‘EASY ACCESS’_ he’d called it. 

Peter crawls from the floor, his energy is lacking, but Adebisi wants him.  _ADEBISI NEEDS HIM AND HE HAS TO OBLIGE._

The Italian grapples with his pants, tugging them down and over his knees as he stands. His shirt is open, but his skin below it bare. Adebisi wouldn’t allow him the courtesy of a shirt. And without his necklace - Peter feels more naked than he’s ever been before. 

He climbs on top of Adebisi’s bare legs; his flesh caressing his captor’s with little to no relent. What could he do?  _FIGHT?_  With what energy?  _SCREAM?_  But with what voice? He obliges. 

_IT’S EASIER TO OBLIGE._

Peter can already feel the erection against his legs and in between his thighs; Adebisi is harder than ever. He must be on something again. 

**“C’mon, little Nino”**  why did he have to say his father’s name? **“Lube me up.”**  The moolie laughs, Peter can’t argue. He can’t even glare at him; he’s already backed himself downward a little and already have his lips wrapped themselves around the other man’s cock. 

Adebisi fucks his throat so delicately; he never makes him gag, but he could if he wanted to. 

Peter wraps his fingers around the base of his captor’s throbbing cock, his tongue glides up and down it's shaft. Eventually, he hugs his lips around the top, sucking and tickling the head with his tongue until he can feel Adebisi’s thighs twitch against his neck. It makes him cringe; knowing he brings his captor so much pleasure but… _HE’S GOOD AT IT._  

_VERY GOOD AT IT._

Peter knows all of the right places to touch, _THE PIECES HE HAS TO FEEL_. He knows where to run his hands; he knows that Adebisi likes it when he touches himself while he gets the man off with his mouth. The Italian does exactly that; his fingers slowly teasing his own manhood as he tastes the full length of Adebisi’s cock. 

Somewhere, Peter hates it, but Adebisi likes it.  _THAT’S ALL THAT MATTERS._

Eventually, he feels fingers under his chin. Adebisi is looking down at him, his eyes;  _EXPECTANT_. 

**“C’mon”** he slaps his thigh again. Peter pulls himself back up and on top of Adebisi. **“Come please your daddy.”**  


Peter can feel his insides twist; his mind screams at him to stop. To pull away - get away. Anything! Why did he have to do this to himself? Why was he forcing himself to enjoy it? 

Because he has no choice _. NO OTHER CHOICE._  This was the psych ward and sure as hell was nobody listening or around to care for them. The CO’s didn’t care; the other patients wouldn’t even know. 

_PETER IS ALONE_  - with the man who raped him and fuck, he’s completely at his disposal. He has been for weeks now. 

_HE HAS TO ENJOY IT._

He continues to stroke his own cock as he levels himself atop of Adebisi. He spreads his legs wide and releases his dick in favour of spreading his ass over Adebisi’s manhood. He can feel the tip of the man’s prick against his asshole. Slowly, he eases himself onto his ‘lover’s’ cock. 

It’s painful at first -  _LIKE IT ALWAYS IS_  - but soon he gets used to it. The saliva on Adebisi’s cock helps it be a little less painful. The beast groans, Peter’s own whine following closely after. The Italian starts off slow; riding his boss’s cock as if to tease it. And then he gets faster, quicker; the pace increasing as the pain lessens. He keeps his hand on his own cock and the other, on Adebisi’s abs. 

**“You’re so -”**  the beast growls beneath his breath **“good - “** he breathes heavy **“at this.”**  


Peter speeds up - he takes Adebisi’s comment as a means to improve. He wants Adebisi to beg him for once - for the tables to be turned in some strange way. Even with drug-addled eyes and a ruined mind, he can be something. He can be good at something - _IN CONTROL,_  somehow. 

The gangster wraps a hand around Adebisi’s head and promptly pulls him close into his chest; he immediately feels teeth graze against the skin of his chest. A tongue tease the scar across his nipple. Peter moans aloud and despite that embarrassment, he finds himself lost to pleasure. He can feel stimulation taking over his senses; his nipples hard, his ass satisfied by Adebisi’s cock and his dick wet in his own hand. 

_FUCK._  He  _SHOULDN’T_ enjoy this - he shouldn’t like it as much as he does. But when Adebisi rocks his hips, grabs his body and strokes his skin with those rough fingers, Peter hates how shaky he gets. He hates how his thighs twitch and squeeze around the beast’s, how his cock aches in his own hand and begs for relief. 

Adebisi’s sweat smells sweet, sweet enough for Peter to press his nose into. The gangster squirms when the other begins biting his neck; Adebisi draws blood and his tongue cleans it up shortly after encouraging it. 

**“Tell me -”** one hand cups Peter’s head, his hair is pulled - but only gently **“that you belong to me.”**  


Lips part, but nothing comes out. Peter responds with a groan; he can’t speak. Not when he feels like this. Not when he feels so close to relief. He rocks his hips faster, strokes his cock a little harder. 

He’s gonna cum - he’s close - 

Adebisi grabs Peter’s dick without warning, his thumb presses down hard on the end of his cock. The gangster’s eyes are torn from the top bunk of the bed and down to his ‘lover’. 

**“Not - until”** Adebisi pants **“I let you.”**  


Suddenly, everything feels a little more painful. His pleasure is bubbling, boiling beneath the surface but there’s no means of relief. His fingers straddle against Adebisi; burrowing nails into the man’s flesh. 

_**“N-no-”**_ why does he have to beg? Why does he have to sink to this low? He wont! _HE CAN’T!_  


**“I want you to beg”** the man coos, his movements getting faster beneath Peter.   


_**“N-n-no!”**_ he hates himself, the situation - _THE WEAKNESS._

_HE CAN’T GIVE IN. HE’S MEANT TO BE IN CONTROL._  


**“You want me to fuck you - “**  Adebisi’s lips part against Peter’s flesh **“harder? You like it when I fuck you like this?”**  


Peter continues to grind against his captor - he brings enough force for the pleasure to feel almost unbearable on both sides. He can tell by Adebisi’s expression that the man’s getting close to cumming himself. 

**“You want me -”** a whisper  **“to cum in your ass? Like I did-”** his pace is getting faster **“in the”** his breaths are heavy  **“in the kitchen?”**  


_**“A-Adebisi!”**_  Peter moans, a few final thrusts pushed into his ass before he feels a sensation so familiar and yet so strange. The man below him groans as he clutches Peter’s skin tightly. A few thrusts beneath him and he’s done. Peter feels the beast’s cock empty inside of his ass; the warm and yet strange feeling of his ass being filled with Adebisi’s cum. 

His ‘lover’ loosens his grip of Schibetta’s cock, allowing the Italian the relief to finally cum. His panting is desperate and weak as he releases himself atop of Adebisi’s abs; the white spunk contrasting somewhat-beautifully with the dark skin of his captor. 

The two sit for a moment; their bodies connected. Sticking together with sweat and semen, heavy breaths ignoring words and lips grazing across one another in a way that could almost appear romantic. 

Peter edges himself from Adebisi’s cock; a thick, white substance running down the length of his thigh and onto the bed as he does so. 

**“Good boy-”**  a hand runs through his hair **“you like that, don’t you?”**

Hazel eyes look up at Adebisi. A look across his face says ‘no’ but his lips answer ‘yes’. 

> He was never in control. Not now. Not then. _NOT EVER._


End file.
